


All I See Are Red Panes

by MilliasRage



Series: Here's Hoping [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Anxiety, Chocolatier Tendou Satori, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Inspired by Music, Long-Distance Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Ushijima Wakatoshi, So much bird imagery, bird imagery, oh ya kageyama shows up for 2 seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilliasRage/pseuds/MilliasRage
Summary: Wakatoshi swallows but doesn’t say another word. The cold wet trails left behind the sponge send goosebumps up along his arm, across his shoulder, then down his back. He watches Satori work, steeling his gaze on the hands. He doesn’t want to look him in the eyes. Satori would see something he really shouldn’t.Pleasure? That would be justifiable, Satori is bathing him. He must know how sore and tired he is.Gratitude? He could never ask him to do this, but he has apparently volunteered. He is grateful.No. He knows it’sdesireSatori would see. He resolves to just close his eyes again. Relax, this is good enough.Or: 5 Dreams + 1 Reality
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: Here's Hoping [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951252
Comments: 10
Kudos: 117
Collections: Ushiten Week 2020





	All I See Are Red Panes

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate your interest in my piece for Ushitenweek 2020 Day 6: 5+1 Times !!
> 
> Shoutouts to my amazing beta [Lokiiwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokiiwood/pseuds/Little%20Giant) and all my new twitter friends for showing interest in this while I was working on it <3
> 
> This piece is inspired by the Kilo Kish EP "mothe" You can listen to it [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AI0wj5sSfcM&list=OLAK5uy_kWn1N1W7wBtv-BfKuqCfEYaMwfTzTt-6M)

**SAN PEDRO**

A cut here and another there. The pruning shears hovered over the thorny rose stems as Wakatoshi considered the best section to cut. Not too high up the stem. No need to cut very low either. Above the five-leaf junction.

_Snip._

Gloved fingers catch the branch before it falls and gently place it in the pile that has formed beside Wakatoshi. A small dragon fly zips past along the back of the rosebush in front of him and his lips curl into a small smile. He’s content with the fleeting encounter and returns his gaze to the rose branches in front of him.

Next up.

 _Oh_.

Wakatoshi is face to face with the dragonfly that now perches on the branch he was about to consider. The dragonfly is still as ever, and it’s staring right at him. 

Tiny rounded black eyes meet hazel. It’s as if the dragonfly is waiting for him to speak, ‘Go on’ it’s nudging Wakatoshi wordlessly. So he speaks.

“Sometimes I forget who I am. Who I’m supposed to be. Why… do I…

I apologize, you probably don’t have time to listen to my issues. I don’t mean to bother.”

He takes a few steps back and bows politely to the dragonfly.

The dragonfly remains still. Watching. 

Olive strands dance in a sudden gust of wind that sweeps through. The wind draws Wakatoshi’s attention to the rest of his surroundings. It’s a garden, sort of. There is the one rose bush in front of him. Thick, green grass underneath his feet. A cracked stone path winds in an uneven circle around him. He then realizes he and the rosebush are in the center of the stone circle. Beyond the circle garden of one rose bush is an open field that seems to extend endlessly in all directions.

The wind grows stronger. Wakatoshi spins back around to see if the dragonfly is still there, hopefully not violently blown away by the wind.

“I’m still here, talk to me,” it says, telepathically somehow. Wakatoshi’s eyes narrow at the dragonfly’s ability to stay grounded on the swinging branches of the rosebush.

The wind picks up speed again, knocking him off balance. He catches himself with arms extended in front of him, buried in the joltingly cool dampness of the grass . Hazel eyes scan the surrounding field and the sky for clouds being pushed along by the gusts and notices a large gray cloud looming above him ominously. The bottom of the cloud is streaked and less puffy, as if rain will come down at any moment. Wakatoshi squeezes his eyes shut, then blinks them open a few times, anxious anticipation rising in his gut.

“What..”

There’s a glimpse of red from within the cloud, then a loud shriek. An eagle the size of a small plane drops out of the dark tufts, bright red feathered wings tucked tightly in a nosedive, and headed straight for Wakatoshi.

He scrambles to his feet. Hazel and piercing red eyes meet. His shoes slip on the damp grass before he gains traction and is able to run.

The eagle catches up to him in an instant and sideswipes Wakatoshi with a gust of wind. He’s knocked off balance again but follows the eagle. It’s his turn to chase.

He’s tailing the eagle, and it feels like it’s for an eternity. His throat burns with exhaustion. His chest constricts tighter by each passing second. It’s impossible to breathe, but his legs are still moving, effortlessly somehow. Blackness begins to envelop his vision.

The eagle suddenly circles to fly back in Wakatoshi’s direction. Hazel and molten crimson meet again. It’s speeding towards him, the golden beak cracks open and releases another ear-splitting shriek.

He’s frozen in his tracks now. He can’t breathe. The darkness finally closes in just before the eagle –

Wakatoshi springs forward into the darkness of the room. He gasps for air and clutches the sweat-soaked sheets beneath him. He sits there for a moment, regaining his composure and eventually finds his phone to check the time.

04:30.

The window above is still dark. California is on the other side of it. He is lying in the middle of an air mattress, in the middle of his father’s living room. The image of a flaming red eagle diving to pierce him replays over and over until he gives into the darkness again, and lies back against the damp sheets.

****

“So I was a really cool phoenix that interrupted your therapy session with a dragonfly then tried to kill you?

That’s so fucking cool! What did you eat before bed? California food is bad for you Wakatoshiiiii!”

Relief begins to ripple and wash over him. In hearing Satori’s voice, in hearing that the dream probably wasn’t that big of a deal, even though it certainly felt like it in the gloom of the night before. He wasn’t sure how he felt about bird-Satori trying to kill him. Or that even beyond that he still managed to think about Satori's hair, and eyes for probably way longer than any friend should before he fell asleep again. How he'd thought about stroking his fingers through those burnt red strands and gazing into eyes as fiery as earth's core. Those parts of the night he kept from Satori.

“So, what were you gonna say to the dragonfly?”

He’d keep that from him too.

**LIKE HONEY**

23:00. Wakatoshi wipes sweat from his brow with an equally sweaty forearm. He grabs another ball from the basket to hit one more serve. _Just one more_. He keeps saying to himself until all that remains is him and the silence of late evening. He’s here, he presumes. He’s pro now. He’s nearly perfected his new continuous and powerful arm swing. He’s found the compliment to the strength Shiratorizawa instilled in him. The ability to flow effortlessly along the current of the courts’ energy.

Strength and Grace. Not enough.

Consistency. Stamina. He still needs more. 00:00 again.

Wakatoshi leans over the ball basket to catch his breath and sweat drips onto the cloth folds at the bottom. Empty. No more.

_Ding!_

His phone rings and vibrates briefly. A message. From Satori, probably. It’s… late afternoon there, in Paris. _I should be home_ , he admits, rubbing sweat away from his eyes before they burn. He walks tiredly, rolling his left shoulder and limping from the stinging in his muscles. He checks his phone that has buzzed a couple more times on his way over.

[Tendo Satori:] _I think I’m going to name this chocolate flavor l’amour vache because it’s sweet and spicy, get it??_

[Tendo Satori:] _Wait, you probably don’t. it means like a love-hate relationship! But vache means cow too! Actually, I also don’t get it!_

[Tendo Satori:] _Wakatoshi help!!_

[Tendo Satori:] _Anyway, it made me think of you. You’re probably in bed or getting ready?? If I missed you, good night!_

Wakatoshi hums a quiet, internal laugh as he reads the messages. He types out his response before setting the phone down to collect the balls and take a quick shower.

[Me:] _I’m leaving the gym soon. What other names do you have for your flavors?_

He doesn’t check his phone again until he’s in bed. His body is still aching from head-to-toe, so he decides it’s probably a good idea to take an extra bath with some Epsom salts.

[Tendo Satori:] _They’re mostly boring but the latest batch is: Orange Delight, Whipped Caramel, no, yeah these suck. But we did a romantic collection a few months ago and those were way cooler._

[Tendo Satori:] _Like Shivering Cherry and Sweet Moan. I don’t know, man. They were damn good too!!_

His eyes linger on the last message before he locks the phone and leaves it next to the sink. The bath is ready and he wastes no time sinking into it, resting his head on a bath pillow his mother bought him a few months ago. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier, until he dozes off.

He wakes and lifts his head off his shoulder where it landed after nodding off. He focuses lazily ahead of him and jolts to attention when he notices the white tile of his shower wall isn’t there. A window accompanied by a happy coleus plant and two small cracks in the orange pot. Grandma’s? He’s in the tub he took many baths in as a child. A white tub framed with wood and centered in the bathroom. He relaxes again and closes his eyes as the wave of nostalgia calms him.

He jolts out of sleep again, this time to the feeling of a wet sponge being dragged along his right arm.

“Satori. You surprised me. Why are you here? What-”

Satori doesn’t respond, but continues to scrub Wakatoshi’s arm with the sponge, his free hand rubbing circles in the tight muscles, willing them to unwind. Like one of Satori’s chocolates, he’s melting under the bony fingers. Satori hums softly, one of his favorite anime themes, probably. He’s watching his own hand travel up Wakatoshi’s arm.

Wakatoshi swallows but doesn’t say another word. The cold wet trails left behind the sponge send goosebumps up along his arm, across his shoulder, then down his back. He watches Satori work, steeling his gaze on the hands. He doesn’t want to look him in the eyes. Satori would see something he really shouldn’t.

Pleasure? That would be justifiable, Satori is bathing him. He must know how sore and tired he is.

Gratitude? He could never ask him to do this, but he has apparently volunteered. He is grateful.

No. He knows it’s _desire_ Satori would see. He resolves to just close his eyes again. Relax, this is good enough.

The next time he’s broken out of the calm, soft lips are skating along the side of his neck. He turns to look behind him. It’s Satori… as well? Wakatoshi glances back over to the other Satori at the side of the tub, who is still scrubbing gently along his bicep.

The lips attach to his neck with more purpose this time. A groan from deep in his throat escapes. Satori’s tongue glides up to his ear, the warmth of his breath tickles and sends more goosebumps down his back.

“Satori…” he manages to breathe out, eyes clamped shut.

Satori’s skinny fingers card through his hair as lips continue to explore his neck and shoulder. The hand in his hair slides down and forward, brushing his cheek. A finger skates along his bottom lip and tugs down.

Wakatoshi lazily opens his eyes mid-moan when he notices another Satori perched at the left side of the tub. He smiles sweetly at Wakatoshi before gently intertwining their fingers and lifting their joined hands up to his cheek. Satori doesn’t look away from Wakatoshi for a second, heavy lidded and full of longing.

He’s unable to break eye contact this time. Locked in Satori’s loving gaze as fingers and lips continue to explore his neck and face.

A flash of red in the corner of his eye startles him out of focus as another Satori rises out of the water between Wakatoshi’s legs. Slender fingers curl around his length under the bath water, and he bucks his hips with a startled grunt.

White tile quickly comes into view. A buzzing phone to his right. Next to the sink.

Wakatoshi huffs to catch his breath from just being, no, dreaming of being touched under the water by…

“Damnit,” he whispers, dropping his head back with an exhausted grunt.

**VOID**

No good morning text today. For the third day in a row. He's busy. Wakatoshi knows this, but he thought he meant more to him? No, it would be silly to think that way. Why would he even consider going there? 

Wakatoshi stares down at his phone, opened to his and Satori's chat thread. He’s been doing that a lot. Looking, unable to act.

Just call him. No, he’s busy.

Send _him_ a good morning, text. He'll be waking up in a few hours anyway. And that’s what he does for you, isn’t it? But I don’t want to come off as ignoring what he said.

[Tendo Satori:] _Sorry I didn’t pick up earlier. I was really busy with some boring paperwork I needed to get done. Did you sleep well?_

Just talk to him.

Later in the day, Wakatoshi finally dials the number. He rests his head against the plush pillows of his couch and closes his eyes. Why does talking to his best friend feel so difficult right now? Please pick up.

“Wakatoshi-kun!! Hey!”

“Good evening, Satori. I’m glad to finally be able to speak to you.”

“Aww did you miss me? I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, haha..”

“Actually yes, I did. Our regular talks are very important to me. Even your good morning messages. You haven’t sent them much lately, but yes, I know you are busy. I hope that we can continue to stay in regular contact.

I do not wish to-”

“Toshi… wait, slow down.

I..get it. I’ve been busy, yes, but it’s ok. We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are,” Wakatoshi says as the tension in his muscles relaxes. He stretches out across the couch to get more comfortable and puts Satori on speaker. He just wants to hear his voice fill the room, let it envelop him like a warm blanket as it always seems to.

An hour and a half later into their phone call, the clattering of pans through the speaker wakes Wakatoshi out of nodding off to sleep.

“Satori, I should go to bed soon,” he says, pressing his palms into his eyes as he continues to fight the somnific pull.

He hangs up a few minutes later and burrows himself in the comforter of his bed.

The next morning he adjusts his purple tie and slips on his white uniform jacket. He heads out of his apartment to make his way to Shiratorizawa Academy, just a few blocks from his apartment. The trees lining the entrance to the school are a full summer green, swaying in the beneficent breeze that sails through occasionally.

A familiar shock of red hair appears from behind one of the trees, then a lanky arm waves for Wakatoshi to join him.

They sit under the shade together and for a while there is a comfortable silence as Satori gazes up at clouds moving along the invisible current of the wind. His lazy eyes still manage to sparkle and marvel at their subject.

Wakatoshi watches him with relief. It’s been a while since he could spend some time with Satori like this. He's busy. He knows.

“You’re my best friend, Wakatoshi-kun,” Satori murmurs softly, eyes still trained at the sky.

The breeze picks up and red and orange leaves sprinkle down around them. Wakatoshi picks up a leaf and presses his thumb along the ribs, expecting a brittle crinkle.

The leaf is warm and soft instead, a steady heartbeat reverberating through his fingers.

Satori reaches to rest his hand over Wakatoshi's. He spreads his fingers almost instinctively in return and they intertwine. He can still feel the leaf’s beat; it’s Satori’s now.

The redhead looks away from the sky and ahead, sporting his usual cunning grin.

“You like me, Wakatoshi,” Satori's grin widens.

Wakatoshi stares at him, frozen. He doesn’t deny it.

“You miss me. And you’re starting to think it's because there’s more.

Is there more? Wakatoshi?”

His throat is dry, but he swallows painfully and tightens his grip on Satori’s hand.

“Y-”

His eyes shoot open to the vibration of his phone. The screen is lit up showing 06:00 and a new message.

[Tendo Satori:] _Good morning!_ (~‾▿‾)~

**ALIVE**

Wakatoshi boards the team bus and finds his usual seat next to Kageyama. He prefers this arrangement since neither of them talk much and they both tend to use the bus ride as an opportunity to get a quick rest before their matches. He wrapped a fuzzy neck pillow across his shoulders and relaxed into the seat with the latest weekly volleyball magazine ready to read in his lap. He flipped through the pages to find the specific article he was interested in, but didn’t read so much as he just stared down at the print.

_“Is there more? Wakatoshi?”_

He’d been listening to Satori ask him that nonstop in his mind for the last few days. Wakatoshi wasn’t going to kid himself. Yes. The answer was yes. There was more. He wanted more and was beginning to believe that he _needed_ more. Hearing Satori’s voice now made his heart flutter while silence from him stung.

They’re both preoccupied, working towards their goals. This is probably the worst time for something like this. A confession could make things awkward, or even end their relationship as friends.

Then, the possibility of things being one-sided causes his chest to tighten and he squeezes his eyes shut at the thought.

No, a confession would be a burden if nothing else. He didn’t want Satori to feel bad for him. He didn’t want things to be complicated.

“Ushijima.”

Yes, it’s better to keep things the way they are.

“Ushijima.”

_He is happy, I am…_

“Ushijima-san!”

Wakatoshi jolts at Kageyama's raised voice. He slaps the magazine shut as he turns to his teammate.

“Yes, I'm sorry, did you need something?”

“I need to get my pillow out of my bag. Can I get by?” Kageyama asks with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, of course..” Wakatoshi nods and places his magazine in the pouch on the seat in front of him.

He settles back in after Kageyama returns to his seat and resolves to just try to sleep the rest of the ride. He’s thinking too much and may be better off unconscious at this point.

Wakatoshi uncurls from the tight fetal position he's lying in, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

Here, again.

Wet grass. Open field.

Wakatoshi’s breath hitches as he scans the sky for the giant eagle that attacked him before. Clear and not a cloud in sight.

He clambers to his feet to find the rose bush he’s compelled to check on. It seems like he’s been walking forever until he sees a glimpse of red on the horizon. His footsteps slow to a stop when he realizes what’s before him.

The eagle sits before him in its blazing red glory. It’s resting with large shimmering feathers tucked close. It's looking at nothing in particular, but Wakatoshi knows that _it_ knows he’s here. He can barely see the rose bush behind the bird, and glimpses of pastel pink petals beckon him forward. 

The eagle turns its head toward Wakatoshi and piercing orbs gaze upon him knowingly. Before Wakatoshi can speak or move, the eagle circles around to crouch behind the rosebush and resume its rest. It seems much more docile now than before, so Wakatoshi steps forward slowly. He’s happy to see the bush in a full bloom shaped nicely by his pruning.

A warm smile forms on his lips as he cups a hand underneath one of the rose flowers to admire its soft petals. The feathery musk of the eagle wafts in the air along with the furnace-like heat radiating from it. He focuses on the eagle behind the bush and notices the dragonfly from before is there as well. It’s perched on the bend of the eagle’s wing, and it’s staring, again.

“Bathe in the flush of love's light, Wakatoshi. Be brave,” says the tiny insect in the form of a distant whisper somewhere in his mind.

Wakatoshi’s eyes narrow as he stares back at the dragonfly. The eagle turns and joins the dragonfly in its scrutinizing of him. It becomes so overwhelming that his arms lower to his sides weakly. He clenches his fists with the sudden sting of frustration welling up in his throat.

His chest tightens as his teeth grate. His breath, now only able to escape through his nose, becomes moist with the overflow of emotion. His resolve finally cracks, and a choked sob escapes his quivering lips –

Wakatoshi’s eyes blink open, awakened by his own vocalization. Kageyama is leaning towards him with an ear bud pulled away from his ear.

“Did you say something?”

**PRAYER**

Wakatoshi gazes nervously at the foreign land below through the small airplane window a seat away from him. His eyes follow the river Seine as it leads him to the city and man waiting for him. His best friend, his confidant of all things except one, the man who at this point was refusing to stay out of Wakatoshi's dreams. The grip on the neck pillow in his lap tightens. He will tell him today. If not within the hour.

He couldn’t hesitate, not now, not here. He had told himself the night before that no matter what Satori said, this would be closure. An end to months of anxiety, flushed skin in the night, doubt. If he didn’t return the feelings, he could be happy still being his best friend. If he _did_ return them, he could be happy and then some. He could embrace him. In a new way, a different way. He could kiss him. Love him.

He exits the terminal and tries his best to follow signs to the exit Satori said he was waiting at. He knew that he looked tall and menacing to the crowds of the airport, but inside he was the most nervous he had ever been in his life. Nervous to see his best friend for the first time in almost a year. Nervous to see his friend _, how ridiculous_ he thought to himself as he pushed the door to the outside of the airport.

He walks down the arrivals walkway for a bit until he spots Satori’s bright red fuzz. Satori notices him as well and smiles brightly.

“Wakatoshi!!!” he wails as he nearly tackles him to the ground with a hug. He releases his grip on the luggage beside him and hugs Satori back. He’s stunned for a moment by Satori’s scent as he inhales vaguely familiar hints of burnt ash and moist air.

He can barely contain the nervous smile forming on his lips as Satori beholds him, commenting on how he seems to get bigger and bigger every time he sees him.

“It’s so good to see you Wakatoshi, you have no idea,” Satori laughs before gesturing for Wakatoshi to follow him to his car. A small red feather blows past in the wind as he reaches out to grab the door handle, and he watches it float further down the walkway.

“… It’s good to see you too, Satori,” he responds before finally opening the door and lowering himself into the car.

Satori slips his keys into the ignition, then pauses to look over at Wakatoshi. His brows furrow with worry as his hand drops away from the keys.

“Are you ok, Wakatoshi?” he asks in the gentle voice he always seems to use when he’s doing what he does best. Reading him.

“No, I’m not feeling 100% to be honest. There’s something that’s been… bothering me for a while. If you have a moment to talk,” Wakatoshi hides the hand gripping on the car seat between his thigh and the door.

“What's up?”

He swallows the small bit of saliva left in his mouth and turns towards Satori.

“I think I'm in love with you, Satori,” he tries to keep eye contact but falters after a couple seconds, lowering his eyes to the stick shift between them.

Satori stays silent for a moment , head in a mystified tilt.

“In love with me? You came all the way _here_ to say this?”

Wakatoshi blinks a few times in confusion himself, but lets Satori continue as he doesn’t appear to be finished talking.

“Toshi, you’re my friend,” Satori chuckles before swiping a hand over his face and into his hair that now seems to shimmer as if someone dumped glitter all over it. The car suddenly feels three times hotter as heat radiates in visible refraction waves from Satori’s body.

“Satori, I would say or explain more, but there isn’t much else.”

Satori’s hand drops out of his glowing hair and into his lap with a dramatic flop. He sinks back into his seat and releases an exasperated sigh.

“You're _in_ love with me?

Did you think you were going to make some grand statement during my documentary or something? So you figured you’d tell me first thing off the plane?”

Wakatoshi scans Satori's face, trying his best to determine whether or not he’s joking. He knew he wouldn’t be able to tell any better than he ever could, so he just asks.

“I’m sorry Satori, I didn’t mean to… offend you? I am telling you the truth. I am not joking if that’s what you’re presuming.”

Satori huffs out a stinging laugh, a laugh Wakatoshi knows for sure this time isn’t playful.

“I… actually can’t do this right now Wakatoshi.”

“Please.” Satori continues eyes dulling to an ashen red. Wakatoshi hears the trunk pop open, and tendrils of panic rise in his throat. He feels sweat dripping down his back from the now overwhelming heat within the confined space of the car.

“Satori, please I did not mean for this to… transpire this way. I’m sorry. I hoped we could at least continue to be friends. I’m here to support you as a friend first -"

Satori gets out of the car and slams the door behind him. He walks around to the trunk and begins to pull Wakatoshi's luggage out to the walkway.

Wakatoshi’s eyes narrow as he notices a pile of red shimmering feathers in the driver’s seat, and a stray feather also stuck in the door seal.

He exits the car and stands frozen at the sight of his bags at the edge of the curb.

“Satori, please listen to me…”

“Wakatoshi…” he sighs, eyes trained to the asphalt below. He walks back over to the driver’s side and hesitates. His hair is still sparkling and has grown slightly longer as short bangs flutter in the wind of the corridor. He runs his hands through it again and more feathers float past his shoulders and onto the ground.

“I can’t… do this. I'm sorry too.” He disappears into the car.

The engine starts.

He drives away.

Wakatoshi is left to stand beside his luggage, staring blankly at the empty space where Satori's car just sat. There was nowhere in his body for the heartbreak to pour out. It lay in front of him in the precipitation stain left on the concrete from the car that was just there. It was presented in the bags that sat beside him, nowhere to be unpacked here in Paris. Their contents would immediately return to their places in his home. Back in Japan.

**_6 hours earlier_ **

“They want to start filming around mid-March. Would you be able to make it?” Satori’s voice echoed throughout Wakatoshi’s apartment from the speaker of his phone.

“Yes, that should work for me. I will look at flights tomorrow morning if you could tell me which airport I should arrive in.”

“Yes!! Ok, you should be coming in through Charles de Gaulle. Wait!! Remember when we were cooling down after that match against Karasuno…”

**ELEGANCE**

Ever since he had that dream, a dull current of anxiety ebbs and flows through his veins whenever he texts or speaks to Satori. It was just a dream. Satori wouldn’t do that, say things like that. Even so, it doesn’t erase the possibility of rejection. Mornings waking up to his good morning texts progress a little slower than usual and it takes just a bit longer for him to get out of bed. The rise of the sun during his morning run is a regular reminder of another day that has begun and thus pulled him closer to that date. The day he’ll fly to Paris to see Satori and be featured in a documentary about him.

He hopes that finally manifesting his feelings and the truth in reality will stop the dreams. They aren’t all bad like _that_ one. They’ve ranged from sentimental, to warm, to sensual, and everything in between. And it doesn’t end when he’s awake. He thinks about Satori a lot, sure. But, these few weeks leading up to the flight have been filled with idle fantasies about him. He daydreams about holding him close, lanky arms wrapped around his neck. About him in his lap, yawning and sleepy after a long day. About his skin under his fingertips, as all he has to work with are vague glimmers of stretching together in school.

As soon as the heat spreads through his cheeks, a flash of _that_ dream knocks him out of it. Sometimes it’s Satori sitting in the car next to him or the sound of the driver side door slamming shut. Then he’s brought back to logical ground. He doesn’t know what he will say. It’s so much more likely that he will be rejected. They haven’t seen each other regularly at all in the last few years. How on Earth would Satori have kindled desires that matched his? Wakatoshi could give a thousand reasons why and how it happened for him at this point, he’s thought about it a lot these days. He’s not sure how Satori could ever get to the, sometimes, literally dreamy state he’s been in. Thinking about him constantly, _wanting_ him, _needing_ him.

All he can do is face forward and let whatever happens, happen.

He boards the plane, ready to do nothing but travel halfway across the globe for the next half a day.

Some of the details of _that_ dream are foggy now, but the mounting nervousness upon landing in Paris was one detail he’d never forget as it began to prove itself as an accurate prediction.

The afternoon air outside the airport felt heavier than it probably was as he searched the arrivals strip for Satori. He spotted him leaning against an expensive looking black car, staring intently at his phone.

“Satori,” Wakatoshi called with a slightly raised voice as he approached him.

There was no loud exclamation or deadly tackle of a hug. Satori’s head shoots up at the sound of his voice and a wide but measured smile stretches across his face. He pockets his phone and meets Wakatoshi halfway before enveloping his shoulders in a tight hug. Wakatoshi rests his hands between Satori’s shoulder blades and releases a deep breath. He’s surprised to realize the hug is calming and feels like home. But, of course it does.

Satori pulls back from the hug and they gaze at each other with small giddy smiles, both processing the reality of finally seeing each other again for the first time in so long. Satori breaks the silence with a hearty laugh before swinging his arm around Wakatoshi’s shoulder and leading him back to the car.

“I know what you’re thinking Toshi, that I’m some big shot now, with my big shot car. Well, it’s a rental alright!!” Satori chuckles as he helps load bags into the trunk.

“I was not thinking that about you or the car, though I am very proud of you, Satori,” Wakatoshi says with a small smile as he gets into the passenger seat.

“I figured I’d rent something to come pick you up in, I wanted you to be nice and comfortable after all that travel.”

“This is very kind of you, Satori. This seat is indeed comfortable.” The leather seats are firm, yet pliable, as he settles in.

Satori drives and they sit in silence for most of the way into the city. Wakatoshi takes this as an opportunity to get a good look at Satori without being noticed as his attention focuses on the road. There isn’t much different from when he last saw him about a year ago during the winter, but it’s still been long enough that seeing him in person requires a remapping of every freckle, dimple, and scar. He’s wearing a colorful horizontally striped t-shirt underneath a heavy cardigan and simple close-fitting jeans. His pale arms are still slim yet firm. A hint of stubble dapples his chin. He smells fresh and floral, with hints of lily and morning dew. Another hug would be nice so he could smell it up close again, warmed by his body heat.

“We’ll be at the rental shop soon, then we can head over to my place. I’m sure you’re hungry!”

****

Satori sets his favorite winding down playlist to shuffle and play on his countertop speaker while preparing chamomile tea. Wakatoshi returns from showering and takes a seat on the couch that will soon be converted into his bed for the next few days. Satori brings over two mugs of the tea and offers one to Wakatoshi.

“I steeped yours pretty strong so you should be out like a little baby Tosh soon!” Satori sings as he joins Wakatoshi on the couch. A slow R&B song plays as they sip at their tea in silence. The warm tea does little to soothe his aching throat and tightening chest as he considers what he’s about to say.

“Hey, Toshi you alright? You look - ”

“It is late, but I need to talk to you about something, Satori.” Wakatoshi sets his mug down on the coffee table before meeting Satori’s waiting gaze.

“You are my best friend, but I think I have developed… deeper feelings for you.

I understand that you probably don’t feel the same, but I believe it is best to be honest with you. I value our friendship and understand that this may be inappropriate of me, but I at least still want to keep that promise we made in high school.”

Satori stares wide eyed at him, then his lip quivers into a crooked smile. His cheeks are dusted with a deep blush but he doesn’t say anything. He scoots closer and reaches for Wakatoshi’s hand to intertwine their fingers before lifting their joined hands up to his cheek.

“Wakatoshi, I’ve loved you for a long time now.” Satori’s chest bounces as he laughs softly into their hands. He releases a quiet sigh, tickling the back of Wakatoshi’s hand and sending goosebumps down his spine.

“I just figured I would wait. For you to maybe come around or for myself to finally have the courage to say something. Or to eventually move on after you found someone else. Either way, just being there for you makes me happy.

It’s been harder for me to show that these days but, God, I want to give you the fucking world, Toshi.”

Wakatoshi blinks, stunned at Satori’s counter confession. He can’t find any words to say. Satori’s warm hand in his, and his face, so close is all he wants to focus on and think about right now.

“Toshi, come here.” Satori says in a low, sweet voice he’s never heard out of him before. Pale arms wrap around his neck as Satori pushes himself into his lap and squeezes tight. Wakatoshi snakes brawny arms around Satori’s waist and buries his face in the crook of the pale neck in front of him. He’s intoxicated by the fresh floral scent emboldened by Satori’s body heat.

They sit pressed together for a while until Satori jolts out of nodding off to sleep.

“Aww Toshi, why’d you let me fall asleep on you, I’m sorry.” He wipes drool off Wakatoshi’s shoulder, choking on a giggle he’s trying his best to hold in.

“I didn’t want to disturb you and I began to fall asleep myself. It is probably time to go to bed, though.” Wakatoshi releases Satori and they get to work setting up the pull-out bed.

****

Wakatoshi’s eye blink open lazily, focusing on the streetlamp shining outside of Satori’s apartment. A gentle nudge on his shoulder brings his attention to Satori standing beside the pull-out bed.

He pushes the sheets down to grab Wakatoshi’s hand and tugs. Satori leads him slowly through the dark apartment and into his bedroom.

“Is everything ok?” Wakatoshi asks, blinking the grogginess of sleep out of his eyes.

Satori doesn’t answer right away as he climbs into bed and pulls the comforter back to expose a space next to him. “Come sleep with me,” he says, patting the sheets beside him.

Wakatoshi swallows, his throat suddenly dry, and makes his way over to the bed. He carefully slides onto the mattress and settles in, watching Satori’s face for any sign of discomfort.

Satori shuffles forward to close the gap between them and rests a hand on Wakatoshi’s cheek. The strokes of his thumb soothe Wakatoshi nearly back to sleep until Satori’s voice rouses his eyes back open.

“Wakatoshi?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Heat spreads through his cheeks and ears. He nods, “Yes.”

The press of lips against his is subtle yet overwhelming at the same time. He releases a shuddering breath as Satori returns to stroking his cheek.

The pull of sleep draws his head deeper into the pillow.

“Sweet dreams, Wakatoshi.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Feel free to comment, I'd love to hear what y'all think about this..weird...dreamy ride.
> 
> Some random notes/fun facts about this fic:
> 
> \- The dragonfly scene actually happened to me. I mean, like it didn't talk to me but. I had a _moment_ very much like Toshi's with a dragonfly while tending my roses like a month ago. It was a lot.
> 
> \- I knew I wanted Satori do make a french joke or something like that so I literally looked up the french word for "cow" then fell into this weird rabbit hole about the weird ways it's used. and now here we are. djskagd
> 
> \- that random line about love from the dragonfly? maya angelou. Toshi's dream dragonfly therapist is maya angelou.
> 
> \- the rejection nightmare was actually...really fun to write. what does that say about me? everything you think it does. bwahaHAHA
> 
> Come yell at me about HQ on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/millias_rage)


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